


A Reminder for the Brave

by pascalleeos



Series: So Says Our Hearts [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward, Friendship, Illustrated, Illustrations, M/M, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Origin Story, Original Character(s), Romance, Slow Romance, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 12:13:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15412680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pascalleeos/pseuds/pascalleeos
Summary: A snowy night in Ishgard prompts the Warrior of Light to present a downtrodden Alphinaud with a gift.





	A Reminder for the Brave

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a small bit of backstory for my Miqo'te WoL as well as the tentative beginning of his relationship with Alphinaud. It takes place after the events of ARR at Fortemps Manor. This is my first kind of exploration into writing FFXIV related fanfiction so this one is a bit lore-heavy as a result. I was kind of flexing my knowledge of the events pre-ARR so forgive me if any details are a bit funky!

Though raised in the snowy climates of Coerthas, the Warrior of Light had never been very fond of the cold weather. Sun Seekers were warm weather folk and he’d grown so accustomed to the rays on the coast of Limsa Lominsa that being out in the middle of nowhere was putting an ache in his bones that was distinct enough to match the one in his heart. Despite his armor creating a warm enough barrier against the biting winds, he still sniffled as the snow fell, saying a silent, if childish prayer to Hydaelan that he could avoid the illness that came with such a shift in temperature from the norm.

Ishgard would not have been his ideal place to travel, but with Ul’dah thrown into such chaos that forced them into this chilly exile, he’d had no choice. But it wasn’t all bad. At his side, he still had Tataru and Alphinaud. It had been a luxury to not be by himself. Strong and stalwart as he was outwardly, he wasn’t the type of adventurer who preferred to get by on his own. He’d grown so heavily accustomed to the company of the Scions that whenever he had to leave on his own to pursue yet another lead, he worried and fussed over their well being. They were his friends. Practically family, at this point. More so than his own family had been, at any rate. 

—

He was not a Limsan Miqo'te by birth, though if you were to ask where he came from at all, he wouldn’t be able to give you an answer. His birth parents were a large unknown and his adoptive parents were Elezen. Woefully unprepared were the two of them to take on a young Miqo'te child whose heart belonged to the sun. With two elder brothers and a younger sister all Elezen, it was the red-haired wild child who was expected to present himself as the Elezen would. Refined and esteemed. Dressed in only the finest garb fit for high born Elezen of Ishgard, though Coerthas was still a far cry from the gates to the Ishgardian territory. Other Elezen were quick to judge his behaviors; looked at him as the lesser; questioned why on earth his parents would take in such an unruly child and try to raise it as a highborn. It made him resentful and bitter, longing for something to appease his inherent nature. And when he was old enough to depart for warmer lands, he was quick to seize the opportunity, stealing enough coin to keep him fed and clothed and running off with one of the family chocobos that would put distance between him and Coerthas as fast as possible.

Though he was young, he was resourceful. Be it nature or tricks learned along the way, he made do with scant amounts of food and drink, stealing where possible and passing through where it wasn’t. Until he sold the chocobo for enough gil to buy passage to the coast of Limsa Lominsa, feeding his lust for the ocean tides and the golden sand. But stealing would not get one very far with the Maelstrom nearby. So he would catch his own food, using sharp eyes and ears to fetch fish by hand from the shallow coastal waters. A mere boy of ten years, he survived on his own for a time, until catching the attention of the Limsan fisher’s acting guildmaster, Sisipu Sipu, who saw potential and offered him a rod to use instead of his hands. It was an uncomfortable adjustment, but the Miqo'te boy was nothing if not persistent, and it wasn’t long before his affinity for fishing earned him a tentative spot as one of Sisipu’s apprentices. Not a guild member, but instead, he would venture out and run errands here and there while earning enough coin to keep himself fed, clothed, and sheltered. 

Ultimately, he was content. He made friends with other guild members, sold some fish here and there in his spare time, and built small rafts to take him out and onto the water where he would spend several hours relaxing. 

At least until the fall of Dalamud.

—

The life of Limsans quickly became erratic and dangerous. Skirmishes with the Empire were frequent and many of the boy’s tasks quickly became delivery of supplies and food to the soldiers of the Maelstrom who would return to Limsa to recoup before venturing out again. He watched as friends and neighbors built their own companies of fighters to go and face the Imperial scourge while he remained behind, anxious and waiting for his opportunity to do the same. But even at age twelve, Sisipu and even the true guildmaster Wawalago Momolago would forbid him from following into the fray. With no weapon skills and no fighting experience, what could he offer a free company? Or even the Maelstrom. 

So he sat and waited. Until the Battle of Carteneau prompted Dalamud’s rupture and the Miqo'te was confined to the land, watching the horizons in vain for friends to return, only for their sails to never again be seen. 

It was a dark night in Limsa when the Miqo'te ventured out to the markets with the spare coin in his pockets, perusing weaponry, raising eyebrows from familiar locals who’d only ever seen him with a rod or a net. What the vendors had available was nothing like the weapons he’d seen soldiers carry. They were cheaper and seemed much more ready to break. The lance didn’t feel right, but neither did a sword and shield. And he’d no inclination for magic use in the past. Did not think himself capable of casting or healing. It was not until a traveling merchant, seizing the opportunity for an easy sell, coaxed the boy into purchasing a bow with a set of arrows that the Miqo'te resolved himself to at least give it a try. And now, several hundred gil poorer, he stood in the shallows of the waters surrounding Limsa, aiming for the unawares fish that swam underneath. It was just like catching them by hand. Factor in the refraction of the light and - 

The first fish he caught with the bow and arrow prompted him to wake the entirety of the guild to announce his accomplishments. Much to the chagrin of Sisipu, she couldn’t argue with the talent he seemed to possess for quickness and accuracy. And so she offered him a deal.

Train with the bow for a few years until he was of age. And then, if he still wanted to venture forth to discover his role in the defense of Eorzea, neither Sisipu or Wawalago would stop him. 

On his seventeeth nameday, the Miqo'te bid goodbye to the guild and to Limsa with a promise to return soon, finding himself on a passage to the archer’s guild nestled firmly within the Twelveswood. Gridania was an unfamiliar place, sheltered by the trees and populated with the most Elezen he’d seen since his adoptive home in Coerthas. 

It was on that chocobo-drawn carriage that he’d first caught glimpse of the twins from Sharlayan, one of whom would become a guiding beacon in the coming days. 

—

Through their adventures in Eorzea, the Warrior of Light had relied heavily on the Scions for support. From their encounters with the towering primals, to the battle against Gaius van Baelsar, he’d known the light that would always guide him to victory. And though he’d at first attributed it to Minfilia’s guidance and the support of the Scions, it remained even when their exile forced he, Alphinaud, and Tataru away from their leader, hidden away within the walls of Fortemps Manor. 

It wasn’t until he’d seen the chaos that the betrayal of the Crystal Braves had wrought that he was able to put a source to that light. Though dim as it was when they’d first escaped Ul’dah, it did not take long for it to return, nestled safely within the bold stratagem and heart of the fair haired Elezen who had hinged so much on himself as the Commander of the Crystal Braves. Their brief defeat had been just that: brief. And it certainly wasn’t long before Alphinaud, ever loyal to his cause, was again guiding the Warrior of Light onto the path necessary to solidify their place in Ishgard and put an end to the Dragonsong War; a noble and daunting goal even for he who had devised successful plan time and time again. But the Warrior trusted Alphinaud’s word. Trusted his heart. 

Even when he knew Alphinaud was disheartened, rattled time and time again with talk of heresy and distrust, the Warrior would find the means to build him back up again. And this time, it was in the form of a particularly bright flower that had been plucked from the snowy hills outside of Ishgard’s walls, encased in ice but still standing defiantly, petals splayed and stems reaching for the sun. It was a beacon of life that was meant to be preserved, and on his return to Ishgard, the Miq’ote was quick to seek out a magic user who could preserve its crystalline form.

—

His return to the manor was swift after that, shaking the snow from his shoulders and following Count Edmont’s word that Alphinaud had taken some time to himself, out on the upstairs balcony that faced the snowy mountains beyond the walls. One could only study notes so much and even the scholar needed to settle his racing mind from time to time. And that is where the Warrior found him, bathed half in the light of the warm fireplace within the manor and half in the light of the moon, a dichotomy of color that accentuated the brightness of his hair and the gentle shine of the metal accents along his outer coat. It sent a sudden little shiver up the Warrior’s spine, but never one to back away from what he assumed was a challenge, he strode forward, crystallized flower hidden in one hand as he took his place next to Alphinaud, staring out to the falling snow beyond the wall.

“We didn’t expect you back for another two days,” Alphinaud said, pleasantly surprised to see the Warrior, seemingly no worse for the wear. Not that he’d expected anything less, but one never knew when a friend ventured off to face god-like beings on the regular. Still, the small upwards cant of his mouth gave away his obvious relief. 

“I decided to surprise you,” the Warrior responded in kind, leaning back against the railing as Alphinaud turned to lift himself up to sit on the railing instead. It took him a second or two to settle his balance, but then his attention was back on the Miqo'te, looking eager as he often did whenever the Warrior would return from a venture.

“So tell me. Did you manage to talk to - “

“Ah-” the Warrior interrupted. Alphinaud had a bad habit of asking too many questions before the bard was ready to answer them, but he was, at least, polite about keeping him from doing so just yet. “Before that, I brought you something.” 

His nerves were somehow more prominent than when he dared to challenge Nidhogg himself, but perhaps that was to be expected from someone who bled the song of battle and not the song of _romance_ of all things. And he’d not been exactly forthcoming about the growing affection he’d garnered for the Elezen over the moons they’d spend in travel together. But he was not exactly a shy individual. So really, it was now or never. Even as Alphinaud’s eyebrows lifted in moderate curiosity, unaware of the last time he’d been given anything since Tataru’s presentation of his new garb upon their arrival to the manor. He didn’t expect gifts and he assumed any gift from the Warrior would be of use to their cause rather than ‘just because’, but what did he know about interpersonal relationships? Not a whole lot, in fact.

Alphinaud simply nodded and fell silent as the Warrior produced that small crystal flower, completely uncertain whether or not such a gift would even be met by any sort of enthusiasm from such a scholarly person who’d likely prefer some sort of book rather than a pretty keepsake, but the intent was within the shining flower all the same, lit by the soft rays of the moon until it glowed and shimmered, casting a similar light over the Elezen’s expression of surprise bordering on confusion. 

“…What… is this for?” Alphinaud asked, curious and somewhat awestruck. Not entirely certain what prompted such a display, but he couldn’t deny that the trinket was beautiful. Why would it be for him? 

“It reminded me of you.” A deceptively simple answer though it was, the slight flush in the Warrior’s face spoke otherwise, leading him to clear his throat nervously before offering an explanation. “I saw it sitting in a snowbank outside the gates. I’d never expected to see something growing so beautifully in such a desolate and cold place but… Well, it surprised me. And so I thought it was worth saving.” He paused. Trying to… word things properly. He had one chance, he figured, and the Warrior was desperately trying to make it count. “You’ve been like this flower. To me. To the rest of the Scions, I’m sure, but to me in particular, though I apologize if that sounds… a bit selfish.” The Miqo'te couldn’t disguise the sheepish grin on his face as he spoke. Sharing feelings was not his forte. 

“We’ve been through so much together. It would be criminal of me to not acknowledge that. All the same, it would be just as unfortunate to not acknowledge that I’ve… developed an… attachment - at the risk of sounding a bit too forward - to you.”

For once, Alphinaud had no words to share, heavily invested in simply listening for now, remaining silent as his gaze flickered from the flower, which he’d yet to take for himself, up to the Warrior’s nervous smile. No, neither of them were exactly well practiced at this sort of thing, were they? But really, what was the Warrior saying that Alphinaud hadn’t already thought about at least once? Though he was not at all prepared to put words to it in the same manner.

“I know this is sudden and I’m not asking for anything from you,” the Miqo'te continued, earnest in his intent and thumbing at the petals of the flower thoughtfully. “But I did want you to know. How I felt about… this. About you.” 

The Elezen took some time to process. Calculative, though a part of him knew this wasn’t a thing that required calculations. But he seemed to reach a conclusion somewhere along the way, extending fingers to brush along the solid form of the flower before he took it from the Warrior, bringing it up to admire it in the light and eventually tucking it away in the lapel of his coat, nestled safely against his chest. He was not privy to what sort of words one would usually say in such a situation, but he could, at least, offer the Warrior some sentiment in return.

“…Thank you. I will… cherish this. And as long as you can promise to remain by my side, so too will it.”

That was the best he could do without wholly embarrassing himself, though, in truth, the redness in those pointed ears was likely betraying how he truly felt. But it would be a good amount of time before he could find the appropriate words to offer the Warrior in return. Luckily, the bard was ever patient.

The Miq’ote smiled brightly, certainly less prone to hiding his enthusiasm, and he took a step back to offer a gentlemanly bow. 

“You have my word.”

Though the biting cold of Ishgard seemed to carry on through the night, the two remained comfortably warmed by both the heat in the nearby room and the fires that burned within them, sharing plans for their next big adventure until the sun would greet them and light the way to victory for Eorzea; 

The path to which they would always travel together.


End file.
